


Only Human

by thegirlwhoknits



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, sick!Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2014-01-06
Packaged: 2018-01-07 18:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1123247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhoknits/pseuds/thegirlwhoknits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter's wolf has been captured by a witch, and before the Pack can get it back he manages to get sick.  Stiles stays behind to take care of his mate while the Pack hunts her down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Only Human

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nezstorm](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/gifts).



> For [nezstorm](http://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm), who requested: 
> 
> Being sick and everything all I crave right now is fics with sick Stiles or poisoned/hurt/somehow sick Peter and the other taking care of them and staying with the other even if Peter/Stiles is a really demanding and/or whiny sick person. And there don’t have to be cuddles and sugar, but just general caring for the other and comfort and warmth however reluctant it might be or sneakily shown.
> 
> Can that happen?

Peter was officially the worst patient ever.  Stiles had cut him some slack for the first forty-eight hours, reasoning that he’d never been sick before, but now he was gritting his teeth, hoping that the Pack found the damn witch responsible soon.

And muttering to himself. “Only Peter could be human for a _week_ and manage to get sick.”

The sound of coughing came from Peter’s bedroom, followed by a plaintive, “Stiiiiiles.”  He sighed, finished stirring honey into a cup of herbal tea, and placed on the tray.

His mate looked truly miserable, with red, puffy eyes and an unnatural pallor.  A mountain of Kleenex was forming on the nightstand.  Deaton and Melissa had reassured Stiles that it was only a chest cold, but Peter was convinced he was dying.  As Stiles entered the room, he let out another series of hacking coughs and then flopped back on the pillows dramatically.

“I brought you some tea and soup!” Stiles told him brightly.

Peter only groaned. “I can’t taste anything,” he complained.

“That’s probably good, actually; this is my Grandma Stilinski’s recipe, it’s about eighty percent garlic.  Guaranteed to fight off germs and make you vampire-proof!”

“Making me witch-proof would have been more useful.”  Peter scowled, but scooted up so his mate could put the tray in front of him.  He slurped at the soup cautiously, wincing as the hot liquid slid down his raw throat.

“The tea has lots of honey in it, should make your throat feel a little better,” Stiles offered.

Peter took a careful sip of it and sighed in relief.  Stiles was about go take care of the dishes when Peter trapped him with a set of puppy eyes.  “Stay with me?”

His mate smiled fondly.  Peter might be a pain in the neck like this, but he was also kind of adorable.  All his snarky, confident attitude dropped away, revealing—to Stiles, at least—the vulnerable man underneath.  Stiles toes off his shoes and curled up on the bed next to him.  He pulled out his Kindle. “What me to read to you?”

Peter nodded, spooning up more soup.

Stiles kept reading as Peter finished his soup and tea, then took the tray away and rinsed the dishes in the sink.  When he returned, his mate was out cold, snoring and sniffling a little in his sleep.  Stiles couldn’t fight the warmth that swelled in his chest.  He stripped down to his boxers and crawled in next to Peter, wrapping his arms around his sick mate and holding him close as he drifted off as well.

 

The pale orange of sunset was creeping across the room when Stiles woke to his phone buzzing on the nightstand.  He answered it hurriedly, praying it was Scott with good news.  “Talk to me, buddy!”

“We found the witch.” Scott sounded exhausted. “She had a snow-globe looking thing, like you described, and Derek smashed it.  He got a little beat up, but Allison took her down with a few arrows before she could do any real damage.  How’s Peter?”

Stiles looked over his shoulder at his mate, who—wasn’t there.  Just as he was about to panic, Peter appeared in the doorway, looking healthy and rested and holding two steaming mugs of coffee. 

“Tell Scott I hope he sliced that witch from nose to navel,” he said.

“He’s his usual self again,” Stiles told his friend, grinning.  Scott told him they’d be back in a few hours to check in, and hung up.

Peter placed one mug on the nightstand and handed the other to Stiles. “And now that I’m feeling better, I thought I’d express my gratitude for your excellent medical care.” He gave his mate a predatory smile that sent shivers down Stiles’ spine.  Yep, definitely back to normal. Maybe this week would turn out to be a good one after all.


End file.
